


Hate To Love You

by twdsunshine



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 02:54:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17500208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/twdsunshine
Summary: When the reader hears over the radio that Negan is dead, she knows that she won’t believe it until she sees it with her own eyes.  So, she slips out, leaving the safety of the Sanctuary’s fences behind, in search of the man that drives her insane in more ways than one.  But, when she finds him in danger once again, will her frustrations force her to walk away and leave him to his fate?  Or will his desperate revelations soften her heart and give her the strength to get her leader out of harm’s way?





	Hate To Love You

**Author's Note:**

> This was an anonymous request on Tumblr that kinda got away from me a little and took on a life of its own. I hope it hasn’t veered too much away from what you wanted, Anon, but I basically just wanted the reader to be a damn badass and then this happened… Thank you for sending it in! 
> 
> ‘Basically Negan gets captured by Jadis/Anne and she’s ready to send him off but TR has followed them back to the trash garden and she hears the story about Lucille and Negan admits that he still has someone to live for (TR) even though they fight and argue all the time (TR’s currently pissed) and TR rescues Negan and Jadis learns who not to fuck with. If that makes sense?’

You’d heard the news over the radio, the static crackling as those out on the road checked in with the team left to watch over the compound.  

_‘We’ve lost him.  The boss is down.  Repeat.  The boss is down.  Over.’_

‘What the fuck happened?’  Scott, the Savior nearest to you, had asked, forgetting protocol in his moment of shock.  ‘Where are you guys?’

_‘Rick Grimes happened.  Ran his damn car off the road ‘bout halfway between home and the target.  Simon and Dwight went after him but it was too late.  Blood everywhere.  Over.’_

‘Are you going on with the mission?’

_‘Affirmative.  Simon has taken the lead.  Over and out.’_

A part of you had been amused by the formality of the exchange, but a larger part of you was reeling.  Negan.  Dead.  No way, it couldn’t be.  Could it?  At times it almost seemed like the big boss was invincible, strutting around like he owned the damn place which, of course, he did, and ruling over his people with an iron fist.  But he was human, something you tended to forget, so you supposed it could be true.  You tentatively probed at your feelings, testing your reaction to his alleged passing and finding yourself uncomfortably numb.  Perhaps because you still didn’t quite believe it.  Perhaps because you just weren’t sure how you were supposed to feel.  The only thing you knew was that there was no way you’d be coming to terms with his loss unless you saw his body with your own eyes.  If the troops were carrying on to Hilltop, then chances were they’d just left him out there, no funeral for the man who’d gotten them this far, no burial.  Just a thank you and a see you later.  

And so, you’d snuck out, knowing the patrol rotas like the back of your hand, slipping through the gates on a shift change and keeping to the shadows as you crept along the winding road that led away from the factory, eyes combing the forest on either side to try to spot the narrow track that would take you to your getaway car.  You knew Negan kept one out here, tucked beneath the shelter of the trees, fuelled up with the keys hidden in the wheel arch.   _Just in case_ , he’d told you.   _Never know when shit’s gonna hit the fan_.  It had been one of those moments where he’d actually confided in you, fooling you into thinking, stupidly, always so stupidly, that he might actually let you in, give a name to whatever the hell it was you were doing together.  But the next night, he’d been wrapped around Amber and you’d been cast aside, once again.  

Sure enough, there it was… A gap in the undergrowth, just wide enough for a vehicle to get through and, as you edged into the shadows, wary, with only the knife you’d had hidden beneath your mattress for protection, you saw it: the bulk of a saloon car protruding from behind a mass of overgrown bushes.  It had been easy then, finding the keys, sliding into the driver’s seat and letting the engine rumble into life.  The next part would be harder.

You knew the route he’d have taken.  You’d studied the map spread out on his desk the night before, as he’d sipped from a tumbler of whiskey and tried to steer the topic of conversation away from his plans.  He was threatened by you, by your knowledge, by your skills, and he wasn’t about to let you weigh in and point out any flaws that might have escaped his notice.  People were a resource, but he was still the leader, and questioning him without being prompted was a risky game.  But you still played.  It pushed your buttons, winding him up, toying and teasing, watching as his face reddened and his grip on his glass tightened.  It was what you did, and he hated you for it, and yet he kept asking you back for more.

 

* * *

 

You and Negan had had a turbulent relationship from the start.  You were military and you’d been climbing the ladder, your natural authority giving you an edge over your competition, before the world had gone to hell.  It gave you a confidence - an arrogance, Negan would say - that put the boss man’s back up, and he’d kept you at arm’s length because of it.  No, you weren’t going to be a Savior, not when you might show him up, teach him a thing or two.  He couldn’t have that.  So, you were assigned to menial kitchen work and the days dragged by, monotonous and boring.  You’d confronted him about it once, twice, several damn times, and he’d shut you down, pushing your temper to its limits, though you’d managed to stay in control, hanging on by a thread.  

And then came the day when he’d pushed you just a little too far.  You’d been instructed to take his meal up to his room, and you had, though you’d begrudged the fact that he considered himself too damn important to eat in the canteen with everyone else.  From the second you’d set his tray down in front of him, he’d been on a mission to piss you off.  Everything was criticised, and you’d practised every technique you knew of to keep your cool, until he’d backed you against the wall and snarled, ‘How in the hell do you think I could let you go the fuck out there and fight for me when you aren’t even fit to heat up a bowl of fucking soup, sweetheart?’

Rage had overwhelmed you.  You’d swung for him before you’d even realised what had happened, your fist glancing off of his jaw and leaving the skin a mottled red, and, before you knew it, his fingers were wrapped around your throat, squeezing, tightening, until you saw stars before your eyes.  You’d thought that was it.  He was going to kill you over a lukewarm dish of vegetable broth, after everything you’d been through, but instead his mouth had crashed down on yours.  You’d pushed him away, roughly, sending him stumbling backwards, breathing hard, eyes flashing with annoyance, and you really had meant to walk away, stalk from the room and refuse to ever be alone with him again.  That was what you should have done.

Except, it had been such a long time since you’d last been kissed, known the pleasure of a warm body pressed to yours.  And your anger was still pulsing inside of you without release, and his lips were curling upwards in a dangerous smile, and it was all too much.  You’d launched yourself at him, and he’d caught you, taking your weight easily and groaning in appreciation.  ‘That’s right, princess.  Take it all out on me.’

You had, that time and a million times after.  Your connection was borne of attraction, you couldn’t deny it.  He was tall and lean, but beneath his clothes his muscles flexed and shifted whenever you trailed your fingers over them, and his eyes burned into you with an intensity that cut you open.  But it was more than that.  He was a release for all of the pent-up aggression and frustration that had plagued you since your unit had been decimated and you’d been left out there alone as the world ended, and you were sure you provided the same outlet for him.  It didn’t matter if he was rough with you, if he was hard, taking what he wanted.  That’s what you needed and you gave as good as you got.  It was only afterwards, when he’d pull you close and you’d talk, really talk, that you thought maybe, just maybe, there were actual feelings involved somewhere deep down too.  

Feelings.  You’d never been good at them, and with Negan it got even more complicated.  You walked a fine line between loving the man and hating every fibre of his being, and it was exhausting and thrilling in equal amounts.  So, the news that he might be dead…  It had messed you up more than you’d ever admit, and you knew that the all-encompassing numbness that was currently protecting you was a coping mechanism designed to keep you fighting a little longer, just long enough to see it for yourself.  For now, all you could do was drive.

 

* * *

 

It was easy enough to tell where the collision had happened.  Skid marks marred the road surface and there was still a tang of burning rubber in the air, though, as you pulled over and stepped from your car, it was soon replaced with the bitter scent of smoke.  Disturbing as it was, it gave you a trail to pick up, and you followed the aroma through the maze of city streets, your knife clutched tightly in your hand, alert for any sign of the living or undead.  It was eerily silent, until you turned the final corner to the crackle of flames.  A familiar car was on its side in front of you, blackened and burnt out, though you could see smears of blood on the concrete surrounding it.  Walkers shuffled about aimlessly in front of the buildings that bordered the area, oblivious to your presence for now, and the foreboding of death hung heavy in the air.

Your chest tightened.  So, it was true.  Negan had been run off the road, his car totalled, and he’d obviously been hurt when he’d crawled from the driver’s seat.  But the blood on the ground was a sure sign that he’d made it out before the vehicle had caught alight, and that knowledge fanned a spark of hope in your heart.   _Think_ , you told yourself, focusing on the task in hand.   _What would I have done?  Where would I have run to?_   Your eyes scanned the surroundings, picking up on the little details - the corpses that had already been dropped, the splintered door frame of the building immediately behind the wreck, and the glass that littered the floor beneath one of the windows, reflecting the sun’s light and casting it off in a million different directions, almost like a beacon calling you in.   _Take cover.  That’s what I would’ve done._

Driven by a powerful need to figure this out, to find Negan and see for yourself what state he might be in, it didn’t take long for you to take down the remaining walkers once you’d charged into their midst.  Again and again you brought your blade down, slashing and stabbing, pushing away the ones that got too close with powerful kicks to the midriff and driving your heel into their skulls.  Your skin was slicked with sweat, putrid blood and gore streaking your arms, and, when the task was finally done, you were forced to stop, to give yourself a moment to recover, bent double, your hands resting on your knees.  It hadn’t escaped your notice that the fight had drawn more corpses from the building you believed to be Negan’s hiding place, and that fact churned in your stomach, unsettling.  If they were coming for you, then where was he?

You forced yourself to breathe evenly as you stepped into the gloom.  The signs of a fight were everywhere.  Bullet holes peppered the walls, a section of banister had given way, and there was a ragged hole in the floorboards, plunging down into the darkness below.  The stench of death was overwhelming, but you forced yourself onwards, clearing each and every room, your footsteps deafening in the quiet.  The basement was the worst.  There lay the mangled bodies of walkers taken down in a frenzy and more blood, though whether it was Negan’s was hard to say.  It was fresh, that was for sure.  But there was no sign of the head Savior.

It was with a weighted sense of resignation that you traipsed back outside, your hope fully extinguished.  So, the voice on the radio had gotten it wrong.  Negan hadn’t died in the crash.  He’d made it out of the wreckage.  But it seemed now that his survival had been cut short by either Rick or the walkers that had been attracted by the crunch of metal hitting metal.  There was no way he’d have come out of the car unscathed, and he would have been weak as he fought for his life.   _Too weak_ , you thought with a shake of your head.  So, he really was gone.  The lack of feeling that had been protecting you so far reinforced with this knowledge, and the reality that you now had to make it back to the Sanctuary, tired and with only that damn knife.   _Negan’s gone_.  You still weren’t sure how your heart should feel.   _He’s gone_.

You picked your way through the bodies that you’d taken down, bloody messes on the concrete.  With the realisation that Negan was dead, you were left with a new mission.  Get back to your car and get the hell out of dodge.  It had been a risk coming here in the first place, though you’d pushed that thought down.  If Negan had been run off the road, that meant that the enemy had watch points.  They’d known where he was going to be, exactly the right place to strike.  It was possible, with him being taken out, that these posts would now have returned home, but, if not, you’d incriminated yourself by checking out the scene of the crash.  So, you kept to the shadows as you headed back through the streets, clinging to the walls of the buildings, on edge and ready to run.  

You’d almost made it back to your ride when you’d heard the rumble of an engine approaching.  Your foot had been raised, poised to step out into the road, but instead, you leapt backwards, pressing your body to the cool red brick behind you and holding your breath as you waited for the vehicle to pass.  For a moment, just a moment, you thought it might slow, stop, that this was Rick and his men coming for you, but you were mistaken, and instead it passed you, moving fast.  But not fast enough.

You recognised the familiar figure slumped in the passenger seat immediately:  the white t-shirt, stained though it was; the slicked-back hair rumpled from the fight; face drained of colour.  His head lolled to the side as though he might be unconscious, but he was there, right in front of you for just a second, before the car sped past.

And in the driver’s seat, another familiar face, though you’d only ever seen her from a distance up ‘til now.  She’d been at Rick’s side as he’d marched on the Sanctuary, believing that Negan and his people were still trapped inside by the army of walkers that he’d led to their door, and she’d been quick to flee when she’d realised the sheriff’s mistake.  You’d watched her retreat from a behind a shattered window, enjoying the fear that settled over her group, the urgency that drove them on with the knowledge that they’d picked the wrong side.  The trash bitch, as Negan called her.  Jadis.  And, just like that, you knew where you had to go next.

 

* * *

 

The smell of trash was pungent.  The heaps piled up above your head, reaching towards the sky, and you could already hear voices as you traversed the narrow alleyways.  You’d left your car a couple of miles away, not wanting to give away your presence before you were ready, and now you began to climb.  The discarded debris of a thousand lives shifted beneath your feet as you picked your way up the slope, moving as quietly as possible, careful not to dislodge anything that might alert those on the other side to the fact that they weren’t alone.  You tried to hold your breath as you moved, but tension and exertion made it almost impossible and it wasn’t long before your lungs filled with the sickening odour once again.   _How do people live here?_ , you wondered.   _How do these people live their lives surrounded by the stench?_   But you supposed the protection the heaps offered outweighed the negatives.  You could get used to anything if you lived with it for long enough.

The scene before you when you crested the top left brought a smirk to your lips before you could stop it.  He was alive.  Negan was alive.  He was bound to a board, practically helpless stretched out like he was, and Jadis was watching him from where she sat several feet away, her face an icy mask.  They were arguing, or was Negan begging?  It was hard to tell over the sound of your own pulse pounding in your ears, but he sure as hell looked distressed and, when you noticed the gleam of Lucille’s barbs glinting from the bat in Jadis’ hand, you realised why.  

You took a deep breath, then another, keeping your body low, calming yourself until you could make out what was being said.  Jadis had eased herself to her feet now, casually tossing Lucille to one side as Negan’s desperation grew, the hint of panic in his voice painfully evident.

‘Hey!  Hey!  Let’s talk about this!’

But she wasn’t listening, turning her back and leaving him lying there as she disappeared into the maze.

'I had nothing to do with this!’

It was the perfect time to make a move, you realised.  To slide down into the clearing and free him from his bindings, and yet… You couldn’t bring yourself to do it.  It had brought you a welcome sense of relief to see your leader alive and relatively unhurt, not fatally at least.  But seeing him afraid had given you something that you’d missed since the world had gone to hell.  Power.  For once, you had the power, not him, and you revelled in it for a moment.  This was the man that undermined you whenever the opportunity arose, that kept you down because he was scared that you might rise above him, and that used your boredom and your need to pull you closer, tempting you with empty promises and then leaving you out in the cold.  Yes, you walked a fine line of love and hate with Negan, but seeing him there, defenceless, felt like karma had finally landed on your side and the part of you that hated him was gleeful at the turn of events.

 _You could leave_ , whispered a voice in the back of your mind.   _If Negan doesn’t come home, that number one spot opens up._  Sure, you’d have some competition, but Simon’s an idiot and Dwight lost his backbone a long time ago.  You could finally take control.  You could finally do things right.  

What if you stepped back and let Negan die here?  The bitch was crazy enough to do it, from what you’d been told.  Could you do it?  Would you?  Deep inside, your heart gave a small pang of warning.  It would hurt.  Of course, it would hurt.  You’d come all the way out here looking for him, but you doubted he’d have ever done the same for you.  You had to remember that, you knew.  You were just another lay to him.  Another notch in his bedpost.  

Not that Negan was going down without a fight.  With his captor absent, he dug his heels into the ground, dragging the board he lay on towards a bag that she’d left behind, until he could reach out an arm and delve inside.  You could just make out his hiss of victory as he pulled a gun from its depths, closely followed by a flare which he lit, sending himself rattling backwards as a hoarse growl cut through the air.

A gasp escaped you as Jadis reappeared, wheeling a horrific contraption, part corpse, part trolley, but the nightmare walker was abandoned as a bullet skimmed by her, forcing her to duck back behind a pile of waste.  

'Got your flare!’ Negan called after her.  'For that little fire you were gonna start with my girl.  And let me tell you, I pulled my punch!  Tried to hit old Mr Ninety-Degrees there.’

When Jadis didn’t reemerge he went on, and you couldn’t help but listen, frozen in place, all thoughts of leaving on hold for the moment.

'Look, whatever you’re doing, you must not really wanna do it.  'Cause if you did, you wouldn’t have left me sitting here with a bag full of guns.  Found something else in there too.’  For the first time, you noticed the polaroids that had slipped from his grasp as he’d wheeled himself back into place, scattered at his side.  'Gotta think these snaps are near and dear.  So, let’s have a chat.  Let the healing begin.’

He was taunting her.  You would recognise that tone to his voice anywhere, but it lacked its usual venom, sounding more tired than anything else.  It was working though, as Jadis peered out from her hiding place.  'Leave those pictures alone.’

'I figured they meant something to you,’ Negan rasped.  'Especially considering this is it, right?  I mean, it’s not like you can just pop round the corner and order yourself some prints.  So, I’m gonna ask you one more time…’  He tailed off, gesturing to the walker that was strung out beside her, its back bent at a sickening angle.  'What the shit?  I mean, this is how you kill people?  With that thing?  Slowly?’

'No,’ Jadis spat, echoing the words back to him that you’d heard him state a million times.  'People are a resource.  Move the flare away.  Please!’  Her desperation was audible and with that, the power had shifted back into Negan’s favour.  'They’re all I have left.  They’re all this place has left.  You took my world, everything.  You took away me.’

From where you were, up high, you saw Negan squeeze his eyes closed, and you could only guess what had happened here.  It hadn’t occurred to you how eerily empty the heaps were until she’d begun to talk that way, but you knew that, whatever it was, Negan wouldn’t be responsible.  He was an ass, sure, but mass murder wasn’t his style.  

His voice was thick with emotion when he finally spoke again.  'My wife’s name was Lucille.  She got me through.  I didn’t give her shit and she got me through.  Just life, regular life.  The bat- the bat got me through this, so I named it after her.  That’s it.  Nothing more to do with her than that, but it’s the last little piece of her that I got left.  Sort of like these snaps for you, huh?’  

That was it.  Your heart twisted painfully, the delicious numbness slipping away as you listened to him talk about his wife, his real wife.  So, maybe you did love him more than you were willing to admit, even to yourself, if you were having to hold back choking sobs at the wistful look on his face as he remembered her, the only woman he’d ever loved.  Slowly, you began to edge backwards, your mind made up.  You couldn’t save him now.  You couldn’t live knowing that you would always come second, or third, or fourth, or hell, even further down the line depending on whether his wives were in his favour that particular week.  

‘Yes,’ you heard Jadis say, and you paused when Negan’s voice sounded again.

'But it’ll get better for you.  I know it will.  You wanna know how I know?  Because it did for me.  When I lost her, Lucille, I thought that was it for me.  I thought I’d never love anyone like I loved her, even if I had a damn stupid way of showing it.  But I was wrong.  Because I found somebody who makes me feel that way, even through all this shit.  I found Y/N.  And I’m an idiot because I keep her at arm’s length.  I don’t let her be the one to get me through because I don’t have a thing to offer her, and I can’t let it be like it was with my wife.  Not now.  I’m not the same man I was back then.  I can’t let her do my fighting for me even though she’s hands down the strongest woman I think I’ve ever met, and I can’t ask her to be mine because I don’t want to put all of my burdens on her.  But I swear, she makes my life better, just by existing.  So, I know you’ll find something else.  You’ll build something new.  I’m just fucking sorry you have to.’

'You’re sorry?’  Jadis had been inching closer as Negan spoke, her hand slipping to the back of her waistband, and you could see the fresh rage that burned in her eyes.  'You’re sorry?  You say that like it makes a difference.  Like I can forget about my world and move on, start afresh.’

'No, I-’

She lifted her gun before her, levelling it at Negan’s face, and he adjusted his grip on his own weapon, swallowing hard.  'How long did it take for you to move on?’

'I-I-’

'How long?’

He didn’t get the chance to answer.  A bloodcurdling yell split the air as you threw yourself over the top of the heap, half-charging, half-falling down the slope, hitting the ground hard when you reached the bottom.  You were vaguely aware of Negan calling your name, but you were already rolling to your feet, still off-balance as you slammed into Jadis, caught unaware and still too shocked to move.  You both went down, her gun clattering from her fingers, and you fought for control as you brought your knife to her throat.  She lurched beneath you in an attempt to throw you off, to get away, but, though you were rusty, you’d been trained for combat like this, and you held firm, the blade biting into her skin.

'Stay the fuck down,’ you ordered in a dangerous snarl, but still she fought to topple you, and you tossed your knife away, drawing back your first and driving it into her face, once, twice, three times, before she finally stilled.  'You made a stupid mistake here, bitch.’

'Y/N.’  Negan’s voice broke through the red mist of fury that had descended over you, and you blinked dazedly as Jadis stared up at you through unfocused eyes, blood trickling from her nose.  ‘Y/N, stop.’

'But-’

'Simon killed her people.  Slaughtered all of them.  We owe her.  You’ve got to let her go.’

With a soft huff, you lifted your weight from her, making sure to kick the fallen gun out of reach before you stooped to collect your knife.  She made no move to sit up as you walked away, her ears still ringing from your brutal assault, and you dropped into a low crouch at Negan’s side, cupping his face in your hand as you took in the graze on his cheek.

‘What the fuck are you doing here, doll?’

‘Saving your ass, apparently,’ you teased, even as tears sprang to your eyes.  'They- Everybody back home, they were saying…’

‘What?’

'They think you’re dead, Negan.  They said Rick ran you off the road and-’

'Yeah, he did, but I’m fine, sweetheart, okay?  I’m fine.’

'I-I had to see it for myself so I snuck out.  Found the wreck and I thought…’  You stifled a sob.  ‘But then I saw you in the car with this psycho and I followed you here.’

'Well, I’m sure as hell glad you did.’  He was smiling at you weakly and you bent over him to press a soft kiss to his mouth.

'I-I heard what you said.’  His brow creased in confusion and you busied yourself cutting the ropes that kept him imprisoned.  ‘About Lucille.  And about me.’

'Ah, you heard that, huh?’  Finally free, he eased himself into a sitting position, grimacing as his muscles protested, before his eyes darkened.  ‘Wait a minute, how long were you fucking hiding up there?’

'A while.’

'Shit, and it took you this long to decide to help me out?’

You shrugged sheepishly.  ‘I was kinda debating leaving you here.  You don’t usually want my help.’

You tried to keep your tone light, playful, but you knew you hadn’t been able to hide how much his dismissal of your background had stung and he bowed his head with a sigh.  'I’m sorry.  I know you think it’s 'cause I’m a stubborn son of a bitch, and you’re right, but it’s also 'cause I didn’t wanna go putting you in harm’s way, princess.  If something happened to you-’

'I know.’  You quieted him, leaning your forehead against his, breathing in his musky scent, feeling the walls that you’d thrown up slowly crumbling as your eyes locked with his.  'I get it now.  I didn’t realise… I mean, I didn’t think-’

'That you meant shit to me?’  He gave a breathy laugh.  'You mean fucking everything, sweetheart.  Everything.’

'I love you.’  You whispered the words, still afraid of being rejected, shut down, but he echoed the words back to you, his gaze sincere.

'I love you.’

'I fucking hate that I love you,’ you admitted, and this time his laugh was a loud rumble that vibrated through his chest, and you drank it down, capturing his mouth again, kissing him properly, marking the monumental step that you’d both just taken.

'C'mon.’  He was levering himself upright now, taking your hands when you offered them, and you realised that he was injured worse than you’d thought.  'Let’s get the fuck out of here.  I wanna take you home and start doing things the way I should’ve fucking done them from the start.’

'What about her?’ you asked, tipping your head at Jadis who was only now pushing herself up on her elbows, glaring at the both of you as Negan wrapped an arm around your shoulders.  'We just gonna leave her?’

'Yeah.’  He was nodding, his attention directed at her, ensuring that she understood.  ‘She gets this one on account of what happened here.  But she only gets one.  Is that clear?’

He didn’t bother to wait for her response before he span on his heel, staggering over to collect Lucille, the last trace of the old life he’d left behind.

 

* * *

 

You left hand-in-hand, your pace unhurried with Negan’s pronounced limp, and miles to go to where you’d left your car.  

'I’m driving,’ you told him when it finally came into view and he shook his head, fixing you with a stern look.

'Like hell you are.  I’m the boss.  Now, hand over the damn keys.’

'No.’

'Y/N-’

'I’m the better driver, Negan.  You know it’s true.’

'And why the fuck do you think that?’

‘Look what happened the last time you were behind the wheel.’

With a disbelieving chuckle, he pulled you into his side, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as he smirked at you.  ‘And here was me worrying things would change between us, now you finally know.’

'Now that I know you love me, you mean?’

'Well, yeah.’

‘Doesn’t change a damn thing.’  You pushed him towards the passenger side, laughing freely as you rounded the car to slip behind the wheel.  Because you knew that it did change a hell of a lot really.  He’d been holding you back to keep you safe but he didn’t need to worry about you.  You’d saved him, tracked him down when no-one else had given a shit, and that made you equals for the first time.  You were ready to step up and do what you needed to to help your man win this war.  And you knew now that he wouldn’t be saying no anymore.


End file.
